Wild Hearts
by saint liz
Summary: Hanna Amsel is pulled into a whole new world when she stumbles upon the Basterd's hideout in the woods. She's been sheltered and coddled her whole life, and kept away from the atrocities of war by her protective older brother, but what happens when she gets dumped right in the middle of the most violent group of Nazi hunters? That's when the learning curve gets steep.
1. Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter 1

_1939_

"Pieter, wait for me, please!" Young Hanna Amsel called after her brother as he rushed to board the train. The platform was crowded beyond belief, with men in uniform bidding their loved ones goodbye.

He paused at the steps of the train, turning to give her one last kiss. "Goodbye Hannerl," he said as he buried his head in her blonde hair. "Be good, be safe - and pray for me, please." Hanna raised tear-filled green eyes to meet her brother's own tortured ones. He was scared, a boy pawn in a man's war at only twenty-one.

The train sounded its whistle, a shrill reminder of time passing. "I love you Pieter," Hanna's arms tightened around him, trying to memorize her beloved brother. "After the war –"

"After the war, we will live in the Tyrol and raise sheep and yodel and sing," Pieter completed their oft repeated promise. He stepped back on to the train as the conductor began shutting the doors, his hand still clutched within Hanna's. "Goodbye, _liebchen_!" He called as he released her hand, the train beginning its slow departure.

After, Hanna walked back home, part of the crowd milling towards the city centre. When she got to the little farmhouse she and Pieter shared, she headed straight to her room and knelt beside her bed. "Dear Lord," she began. "Please bring Pieter back to me, safe and whole. Amen."

Getting up, she went to Pieter's room and sat on his neatly made bed. Since their parents had died years ago, all they had was each other. When in the orphanage, Pieter had been her protector and shadow. He had been reluctant to leave her, as she was only fifteen, but the call of duty had been strong. They had never been apart before, and Hanna's hands trembled as she thought of Pieter injured – or, God forbid, dying – in a foreign land.

The house was quiet and empty without Pieter. Hanna sat still as stone on the bed, her rosary in one hand and a picture of Pieter in the other, her mouth silently shaping the words to the Lords' Prayer.

_Five years later_

Hanna marvelled at the pretty buildings as she walked through Paris. Pieter had sent her money to meet him here, as he had only a short furlough and would not be able to make it all the way back to Berlin in time. He had only been able to come home a few times since enlisting, due to his quick and steady rise through the ranks. After a stint in flying school, he had been posted all over Europe as Germany's empire grew and Her hunger for qualified pilots became insatiable.

She stopped at a café, looking inside anxiously. Although she had practiced her French since Pieter had left, it was still fairly limited. She had also tried learning English, and had picked that up surprisingly quickly.

The patrons of the café noticed her hesitancy, and some were watching her with interest. A soldier approached her, doffing his cap. "_Mademoiselle, que vous attendez quelqu'un_?" He said carefully.

"Do – do you speak German?" She whispered nervously, embarrassed to test her accent on a stranger.

"Ah, a fellow countrywoman! My name is Private Emil Bauer, at your service." The soldier smiled widely, sketching a quick bow. "Would you like to join my friends for a short while? That is, if you are not waiting for anyone." He gestured towards a table of youthful German soldiers, the majority of who were staring curiously at her.

She nodded, thankful that she was making some friends in this strange place. "My name is Hanna Amsel – perhaps you know my brother, Pieter Amsel? He is also in the armed forces, stationed in France. I am supposed to meet him here, but he must have been delayed."

Emil led her to the table. "Who has not heard of _Oberstleutnant _Amsel?" A number of voices chorused their agreement. "He is a hero to all who have love for Germany in their hearts, and a terror to all those who seek to destroy our homeland."

Hanna's eyes were wide as she saw the reverence in the soldier's eyes. She had not known he had reached the rank of _Oberstleutnant. _Pieter rarely told her anything about the war or his missions, preferring to keep the mood light by speaking only of music, or of the art that captivated him. Hanna dreaded hearing any news of the war, and she spent her days isolated in the cottage, reading novels or tending to the farm.

"Indeed, the only person who is able to compete with _Oberstleutnant _Amsel is Private Zoller over here!" Emil clapped his hand on his friend's back. "He is such a hero that they have even made a movie about him." Private Zoller laughed, but in a way that showed Hanna that he was proud of his achievements.

Hanna sat in the chair that Emil had pulled out for her. "Our Fredrick here even starred in the movie – what do you think of that? Not only Germany's greatest sniper, but also it's prettiest!" Another soldier teased. It seemed that the soldiers were completely at ease with the young Private, despite his reputation. They spoke to and about him freely, never fearing he would become angry. He had a very easy temperament, his smile never leaving his face.

A hand landed on Hanna's shoulder, startling her from her thoughts. Immediately, all the soldiers snapped to attention, standing and saluting the person behind her. She turned and caught a glimpse of blonde hair and smiling eyes –

"Pieter!" She flew up and caught him in a tight hug, her chin tucked into his uniformed chest. "Hannerl," he said, laughter in his voice. "Please, you will show me up in front of my compatriots. At ease, soldiers." He released Hanna, holding her at arm's length to get a better look. "You grow prettier by the day," he teased as he chucked her chin.

"Come, you must be tired – I will show you where we will be staying," Pieter nodded briefly to the soldiers, picking up Hanna's bag and leading her out of the café. "_Liebchen_, it has been too long," he said, giving Hanna his free arm.

Pieter had grown even more handsome, the military training making him tall and strong. His blonde hair was neatly combed and his uniform clean and sparkling with pins and insignia. "Pieter, you did not tell me you were promoted," Hanna said reproachfully. "No wonder you send me so much money every month – I could live forever on this allowance!"

Pieter ducked his head, abashed. "_Liebchen, _I did not want to disturb your thoughts with the turmoil of war," he admitted. "It can be… unpleasant on the battlefield, and you are so innocent. But I promise, from now on I will tell you everything, my curious little _maus_."

They had arrived at a row of houses. "See the one with the green door?" Pieter pointed to a house on the corner. "That is your new home – I bought it for you," he smiled expectantly at her, waiting for her gratitude.

Hanna was not very grateful. "Pieter, what about the Tyrol? I do not speak French very well, and I – I do not know if I will be able to adapt to life in the city," she stammered, feeling close to tears. Whilst Paris was very pretty, especially the beautiful bridges, it was not her home.

"It is only temporary, Hannerl," Pieter explained gently. "I will be stationed around Paris for an undetermined amount of time – I have been moved to tactical forces. Don't you wish to be close to me?" Hanna nodded reluctantly.

"You will be happier when you see the house – I have decorated it _exactly _as our house in Wurzburg." Pieter's excitement made it difficult for Hanna to be upset with him, and she allowed him to give her a tour of the house. It was obvious that he had put in a lot of effort into making it seem like their house in Wurzburg, down to the simple wooden furniture and woven carpets.

"This is your room," Pieter announced with a grand flourish as he flicked on the lights. It was a large room with stone floors, a king-sized bed on one end and an armoire on the other. What caught Hanna's attention, however, were the towering bookshelves filled with tomes.

"I thought you would like that," Pieter remarked wryly as Hanna headed straight to the shelves. All this effort put into creating a comfortable yet luxurious home for Hanna and all she cared about was a pile of books, he thought to himself. "I bought out a whole bookstore for that, and had them deliver it and arrange it for me." Pieter looked so pleased with himself that Hanna immediately forgave him for uprooting her.

"Thank you, Pieter," she said sincerely, kissing him on the cheek. He put her bag down and gestured to the next room, a bathroom with a huge walk-in closet behind it. "These rooms are all for you, and you may decorate them as you wish. If you want, I can ask for advice on where to shop and things like that."

"Oh, Pieter, I will never have enough things to fill this closet!" Hanna said as she opened her bag and took out the two dresses she had packed for her trip, as well as her toothbrush and sleeping clothes. "Look, I have unpacked and there is enough space for a whole family left besides!"

Pieter grinned mischievously at Hanna. "This is the birthplace of fashion, Hannerl!" He cried. "I bet you haven't spent a single _Reichspfennig_ of the money I've sent you – well, you can spend it all now! The exchange rate is brilliant, I got this house for such a good price."

Pieter showed Hanna how to operate the knobs on the fancy bathtub in the bathroom, and left her to settle in. "I have to go back to the office now, but I will come get you for dinner!" He promised.

After taking a bath, Hanna took a book from her room and settled in the living room. She dared not leave the house on her own, being unfamiliar with the streets and uncomfortable with strangers. Just as the sky was darkening, Pieter returned.

"_Liebchen, _I am home! And I have a surprise for you!" He called out, as he took off his boots in the entrance hall. Hanna ran towards the sound of his voice, still happy and slightly disbelieving that Pieter was here, safe and out of combat. When she reached the entrance hall, she stopped suddenly. Pieter had guests.

"Hannerl, this is _Mademoiselle _LillianColbert and Major Erik Baumgartner, they will be joining us for dinner tonight," Pieter introduced the couple, who seemed rather ill suited. Hanna walked towards the group slightly nervously. "_Enchante_," Lillian dangled her hand limply in front of Hanna expectantly. "_Enchante_," Hanna repeated, shaking the hand awkwardly.

Major Baumgartner was far friendlier, pumping Hanna's hand vigorously. "Oh, please, call me Erik," he beamed, his round face slightly sweaty and pink. "Pieter informs me that you will be residing in Paris from now on – how lovely!"

Hanna disengaged her hand gently. "Yes, but I worry my French is too poor to ever be truly comfortable living in Paris," she admitted. Erik mopped his damp forehead with his handkerchief. "No, don't be silly! I don't speak a word of French, but I get around fine," he chortled.

"Hannerl, I bought you a dress to wear to dinner," Pieter interrupted excitedly. "Go put it on, then we can leave. Erik, Helene, let us rest our feet awhile." Hanna took the dress from Pieter and went to her room, whilst Pieter led the pair to the living room. Hanna could hear Lillian's cool tones remarking on the plainness of the room.

Hanna undressed quickly, before sliding her new dress over her head. It was a silky emerald green, with long sleeves and a modest neckline. The full skirt flowed around her ankles, and the cinched in waist made her look far more voluptuous than she was. She twirled in front of the mirror, enjoying the feeling of the skirt spinning around her like the petals of a flower.

Although Pieter had bought her a lovely dress, she only had her sensible brown shoes to go with it. She frowned down at her feet, resolving to go shopping the next day.

"Hannerl, you look wonderful!" Pieter exclaimed when she walked out. "What do you think, will she not be the most beautiful girl in the restaurant?" He asked Lillian, who nodded noncommittally.

They walked out into the cool spring night, Hanna's arm looped with Pieter's. When they had fallen some distance behind the other pair, Hanna whispered to Pieter, "Pieter, who are these people?" She wasn't entirely sure what their relationship with her brother was, and although Erik seemed friendly enough, Lillian made her very uneasy.

"They are my friends!" Pieter seemed surprised that she would ask such a question. "Erik works with me in the War Office, and Lillian is his companion." Hanna was unsure what a companion was, but she held her tongue. "Ah, we have arrived at the restaurant – Hannerl, you have never had food like this; the French cuisine is exquisite!"

In reality, Hanna had never been to a restaurant at all. She felt all elbows and knees in the crowded room, allowing Pieter to order for her. She ate quietly; keeping her eyes on the food as the other three discussed other matters. When they suggested going to a nightclub after dinner, she pleaded travel exhaustion and Pieter walked her home.

"I know you didn't enjoy yourself at dinner," Pieter said quietly when they neared the house. "I'm sorry for pulling you away from home, Hannerl… You can go back if you wish."

They had reached the house, and Hanna was quiet as Pieter unlocked the door and let them in. "How would I leave my dear brother?" Hanna reached out and held Pieter's hand. "I will stay."

Pieter wrapped his big arms around her happily. "I hoped you would say that, _liebchen_," he said. "And now I bid you farewell, as I must join Erik at the nightclub before he marries a showgirl!" Pulling an exaggerated face of horror, Pieter turned and left the house, locking the door behind him.

Hanna went to her room and prepared for bed. She bathed, brushed her long blonde hair and her pearly teeth, and then knelt at the foot of the bed as she had done every day for the past five years. "Dear Lord, please keep Pieter safe and whole. Amen."

Hanna passed her days going to cafes to practice her French. On one of her excursions, she had bumped into Private Zoller, and found that he spoke the language fluently. He kindly offered to tutor her after watching her attempt to describe the weather.

Her days began to follow a structure. In the mornings she would make breakfast for Pieter, who would then go to work until dinnertime. After breakfast, she met Fredrick for French tutoring, and then she would go home to read the books Fredrick assigned to her. Usually she and Pieter ate dinner at home, although sometimes he went out. After the first night she had refrained from venturing into restaurants.

She had managed to buy an armchair for her room, as well as a few new dresses. Fredrick turned out to have a good eye for fashion, and he had turned an initially overwhelming shopping trip into an amusing and diverting French lesson.

Through her interaction with Fredrick and the rest of the young soldiers, she had begun to get over her almost crippling shyness. Every now and then Fredrick would insist on her tagging along to meet his friends, citing easy conversation as a key indicator of improvement.

At the café, the soldiers would talk mostly about the war and what was going on. They also loved to compare ability, although they all agreed that Fredrick was the bravest and best shooter. One day, Fredrick came to the café in a whirlwind of excitement.

"Hannerl, I have met the most enchanting woman," he exclaimed breathlessly in French as he dropped into his seat. He had begun calling her Hannerl somewhere along the fourth lesson; despite the fact that she constantly reminded him that only Pieter called her that. Hanna felt a pang in her chest. Over the time she had spent with Fredrick she had grown very fond of him, and – she admitted quietly in her own mind – she was slightly in love with him.

"Tell me more," she replied in halting French, pasting an interested and cheerful expression on her face. He began extolling the virtues of the woman he'd met, Emanuelle, telling Hanna of their shared interest in cinema as well as describing at length the beauty of her eyes.

"You must ask her to join us at the café," Hanna suggested, noting that Fredrick's face fell at her words. "Alas, she does not seem inclined to agree," he said regretfully. "I told her about my achievements in the field of battle, as well as of the movie, but she did not look impressed – even when someone came to me to ask for an autograph!" He looked perplexed at the woman's lack of awe.

Hanna felt a small pause of relief, knowing that – for the time being at least – Fredrick would still be free to keep her company. "Ah Hannerl, I will think about this another time – now, where were we yesterday? Names of places – let's walk around and I'll point things out and you can write it down."

They stood, Fredrick tossing some money carelessly on the table. "_Merci, mademoiselle,_" Hanna said politely to the waitress who came to clear her cup, shrinking back slightly when the waitress gave her a decidedly impolite look before clinking away with the cup and money.

"Fredrick, why do some people not like us here?" Hanna asked Fredrick, reverting to German in her frustration. "Once they hear my accent they look so unhappy with me, although I've never met them before!"

Fredrick offered Hanna his arm, before strolling out of the café into the bright mid-morning sun. "Hannerl, how could anyone be unhappy with you?" He teased as he tugged on the end of her braid. "You are all sunshine and roses, made of fluffy clouds and rainbows."

Hanna smiled at the description, until Fredrick added, "Now say that in French."

That night she dined alone, Pieter having an inescapable dinner invitation. Feeling bold as a result of her growing fluency in French, she decided to go for a short walk after dinner.

She left a note telling Pieter where she had gone in case he came home early, and then carefully locked the door behind her. She set off in the direction of the café, but changed her mind mid-stride. She walked that way every day – today was the day for change. The sun was setting slowly as she turned and strolled in the opposite direction.

After about half an hour of walking she started to head home, only to realize the streets were completely unrecognizable in the dark. Hanna steeled her nerves, telling herself that she would get home eventually. She looked around her, remembering that she had walked past a forest on her way here. Breathing deeply, she began walking in the direction of the forest she could see some ways away.

When she reached the border of the forest she stopped, hearing a disturbance in the distance. She could hear shouts and gunfire, coming closer and closer to her. She turned and ran into the forest, seeking refuge in the dense foliage. Having grown up in the countryside, she had no fear of nature. She did, however, have a highly developed sense of danger from humans, a sense that had grown from being bullied in the orphanage.

She ran further and further into the forest, and the sounds of conflict grew fainter. When she could not hear them at all, she stopped and looked around her. By now it was pitch dark, and she had avoided running into trees by sheer luck. She went to the nearest one she could see and curled up at its base, her evening prayer on her lips. "Dear Lord, please bring Pieter to me, safe and whole. Amen."

She awoke when the sun began to rise, the forest floor an uncomfortable mattress. She stood and stretched, noting with dismay that her dress – a white and blue checked one, with a Peter Pan collar and tight waist, the height of sophistication Fredrick had insisted – was muddy from her adventure. She began to walk towards the sun, hoping that she would be able to find her way back home.

After a while of walking, she came upon a house on the edge of the forest. She ran up to the door and knocked, eager to get help after spending hours in the forest. There was no response so she knocked again, harder this time. When the door flew open, she screamed and fell backward, a pistol tracking her forehead the whole time.


	2. Don't Blink

Chapter 2

"Well, well, well, what do we got here?" Private First Class Smithson Ultivich smirked down at the pretty girl literally at his feet. She stared blankly at him, obviously not understanding English. "Do you speak French? Ah, shit – _parlez vous Francais?" _She nodded slowly. Unfortunately, he'd just used up about all of his high school French. Madame Posey would be so disappointed in him.

"Guys, we got a French girl who I assume is lost here," Smitty shouted into the house, keeping his eyes and gun trained on her even though she looked pretty damn helpless. The rest came and stared at the girl as she stared right back, trying to crawl backwards as she probably realized that going to a house filled with a bunch of guys wasn't such a great idea.

Aldo swaggered over to her and put a gun to her forehead, stopping her in her tracks. "My name is Lieutenant Aldo 's your name, sweetheart?" He drawled in a conversational tone, as if he didn't hold her life in his hands.

"Hanna – _mon nom est _Hanna Amsel," she whispered, clearly terrified. Aldo cocked the gun, the click sounding loudly in the clearing, before putting it back to her head, resting it almost lovingly against her temple. "Hanna Amsel, huh? That sounds fucking _German _to me, Ultivich – you telling me you can't tell the difference between a Frenchie and a Kraut now?"

Smitty cringed at his mistake, but Aldo had returned his attention to the girl, who was now so frozen with fear that they could have made ice cream out of her.

"Amsel? Like Pieter Amsel?" Stiglitz hissed, barking a sharp question at the girl in German. She nodded slowly, probably thinking it was going to be her last action. "_Fuck_, her brother is fucking Pieter Amsel. The Luftwaffe prodigy." Stiglitz spat, glaring at the girl.

She surprised them all by releasing a torrent of German, stopping only when Aldo moved his gun to point right at her throat. "What'd she say, Stiglitz?" Aldo asked, looking contemplatively at the girl.

"She asked us if we know the way to Paris, because she got lost in the woods and wants to go home," Stiglitz snorted, shooting off his own reply. Whatever he said made the girl turn white with fear and promptly faint on the ground. Aldo removed his gun from her throat and turned to Smitty. "You done fucked up, Ultivich," he growled. "You can take care of her."

Smitty reluctantly cocked his pistol, aiming straight and true between her eyes. He'd signed up to kill Nazis, not pretty girls, but an order was an order. "I meant take her inside, Private," Aldo had apparently lost interest in the matter, turning back to the house. "Stay with her until she wakes up, and then we'll start questioning her. Make her feel _real _at home."

The rest of the guys filed back to their rooms as Smitty went out of the house to pick up the unconscious girl. She was slight and easy to lift. As he carried her up the stairs to his room, he felt someone watching him. Stiglitz. The German man scowled at the girl before slamming the door of his own room.

Smitty lay her gently on the bed and set up watch next to her. The house had just about enough space for the ten of them, although Zimmerman and Sakowitz had to share a room. His room was so small that it only fit one small cot bed and a hard wooden chair. His clothes were folded neatly at the foot of the bed, ready to be packed away at a moment's notice.

He studied the German girl's face. She didn't look like a Nazi – but then again, wasn't it always the innocent-looking ones that were capable of the worst crimes? He cursed himself again for opening the door and not realizing she was a Kraut. He should have asked her name first. Hanna sounded kind of like a Jewish name, though. But since her brother was in the Luftwaffe, she definitely wasn't Jewish.

As he mulled over his thoughts, Hanna lay out cold on the bed, a good 30 kilometers away from home. She hadn't realized how far she'd run the night before, and she'd been walking in the completely wrong direction for the better part of the day.

She woke up with a shock when icy cold water was splashed on her face. She tried to sit up, but she was tied tightly to a chair, with a ring of men staring hostilely at her. "Welcome back to the living, doll face," the one with a scar on his neck seemed to be the leader, speaking first with the German man translating. He took out a large, curved knife and showed it to her, putting it right up to her face.

"You are Hanna Amsel, correct?" He asked. Hearing her name, Hanna nodded. "Well, we got a couple of questions for you Ms – pardon me, _Fraulein _Amsel." The scarred man said. "First of which is, what the _fuck _are you doing here?"

Hanna looked to the German man, despite sensing that he had a deep dislike of her. "I went for a walk and got lost, then I heard gunshots so I ran into the forest – please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone I saw you," she begged. The German man turned to the rest and said something, hopefully repeating what she had said. His words got a big laugh, so she wasn't sure.

"Won't tell anyone you saw us, huh? What does a Nazi's promise mean these days? I'll tell you – nothing." The scarred man, Lieutenant Raine, said coolly, twisting the knife so that the light gleamed off it.

"I am not a Nazi," Hanna said quietly. "I am just a girl from the country who wants to go _home_." At the last word, and the thought of home, Hanna couldn't contain her tears any longer. She was lost, hungry, afraid, and probably going to die. She didn't need her dignity anymore.

The German man scowled at her, although the one she'd first met at the door, the young-looking one, stared at her almost sympathetically.

"Do you know who we are?" Lieutenant Raine asked. His accent was odd, and although Hanna knew enough English to know he was speaking English, it seemed almost like a different language.

"A-Americans?" She whispered, unsure if that was the correct answer.

"Honey, you are looking at the Basterds." He watched her carefully for a reaction. He'd noticed that her eyes lit up when she understood a word, but she looked completely blank at this. Either she was a fucking good actress or she was really dumb as a post.

"So what's a little German girl like you doing in Paris, France, huh?" He asked aggressively, a tone Stiglitz happily conveyed. "I am here with my brother," she answered honestly. "He works in the War Army, and he wanted me to be close." Stiglitz growled at the mention of her brother. He might not have been in the SS, but he'd sure done a load of damage to the Soviets from up in his plane.

Aldo stared contemplatively at the girl. He couldn't let her go, that was for sure. So the choice now was either to let her live as their prisoner or kill her. He had one last test for her.

"Tell us a little bit about yourself, sweetheart," he leaned back carefully whilst keeping the knife in her line of sight.

"M-My name is Hanna Amsel, I am twenty-one years old in June," Hanna began, her voice quavering. "I was born in Munich, but my parents died when I was young so I went to an orphanage with my brother. When I was twelve, my brother enlisted and bought a house outside Wurzburg. It – it has a little farm, and cows, and- and chickens." She brought in a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "I lived there until a few weeks ago, when my brother moved me to Paris, and – and _I just want to go home, please_."

Although Stiglitz translated this with no inflection other than maybe a slight hint of annoyance, the Basterds could all hear the longing in her voice. "Shit, Lieutenant, we ain't here to kill civilian women," Donny said, tapping his heavy baseball bat against his leg. "She ain't a spy, she ain't a soldier - she's just a farm girl that misses home, ain't she?"

Stiglitz shot a glare at Donny. "She is the sister of one of the most infamous Luftwaffe pilots around." He said in a low, angry tone. "The moment we release her she will go running to her brother and tell him where we are."

Aldo had heard enough. "She's not going anywhere," he said as he sheathed his knife. "Boys, we just got ourselves a prisoner."

"Now, sweetheart, if you even try to run away we're gonna put a bullet in you so fast you won't be five feet away from the door," Aldo said casually as he shoved her into Smitty's room, now her prison. "Then we're gonna tear you to pieces. Ain't that right, Wicki? Tell her."

Wicki translated for Hanna, and she nodded, eyes locked on Aldo's. "Yes," she said slowly. "I – understand." Aldo left her with Wicki and Smitty, who now had no idea where he was supposed to sleep. He began putting his clean clothes into his pack quickly, getting ready to look for new digs.

Hanna sat on the bed, one arm tied to the bedpost so she couldn't run. Wicki had checked her over thoroughly for weapons, and the only thing they'd found in her bag was a tattered book. Not even a dollar for food or emergencies.

"Excuse me," Hanna said quietly to Wicki, who had first watch. He looked at her with a blank expression. "Can I just ask – why do you hate Germans so much?" Wicki stared at her in shock, before saying something to Smitty. She had some nerve even asking that, and Smitty wondered if she was really as naïve as she seemed.

"We're in a war," Wicki said slowly, thinking this girl might actually be mentally handicapped.

"Yes, I know, but – you seem to really hate me just because I am German. I have encountered this before in Paris, and – and I was wondering if you could tell me what it is the Germans have been doing to, well… everyone." Hanna floundered as she tried to explain.

"Have you been living under a rock?" Wicki asked incredulously. "Your brother is a fucking superstar and you don't know what Germany's been doing?"

Hanna shook her head slowly. "My brother keeps me very sheltered," she admitted. "He does not like me to know about the travails of war. He says it will damage me. But I am curious, and – and I want to know."

Wicki and Smitty exchanged a look of incredulity. How sheltered could one girl be, not to even notice the concentration camps and widespread massacre going on around her? Noticing their expression of disgust, Hanna rushed to explain. "When I was on the farm I had no news, no visitors, and only a few letters from Pieter, all about the latest movie or song on the radio. When I was in Paris my friends spoke only of parties and – and conjugating verbs."

Wicki leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Let me ask you something, girl," he said, balancing his chin on tented fingers. "Do you have any Jewish friends?" Hanna shook her head. "I don't really have any friends except for Pieter and Fredrick," she whispered, thinking of how worried Pieter must be right now.

"Well, Germany's been trying to get all over Europe to pick up all the Jews and kill them. And also the homosexuals, gypsies – you name it, if it ain't blonde and blue eyed, its' a goner." Wicki eyed her critically. "No wonder your brother is the poster boy for the Luftwaffe. You guys are the perfect Aryan specimens, except for the brainpower. That's a little lacking."

Hanna was in shock. "Why would anyone want to kill all the Jews?" She asked through slack lips. "What have they done to us?" Wicki snorted derisively. "You tell me, kid. You mean you really never heard of anything about the war? Your brother never told you what was going on?"

Hanna shook her head in denial. "Pieter is not a – a Nazi, he is just a pilot. He does not believe Jewish people are worse than anyone else. I'm sure he does not know about Jewish people being killed."

Wicki stood, mouth a straight line of disbelief. "If your brother is in the German army, he knows what's going on. And he isn't doing a damned thing to stop it." He turned and left the room, evidently tiring of the conversation.

Smitty stood at the foot of the bed, trying to make sense of the conversation. "Do you speak any English at all?" He asked the girl. She paused, nodded and replied, "A small bit. But you speak different to how I have learned. And very fast."

"I'm Smithson Utivich, but most people just call me Smitty," he said, offering her his hand to shake. She took it carefully, watching him the whole while. "I am Hanna. Utivich… Are – are you Jewish?" She asked, so quietly that he almost couldn't hear her. Smitty nodded proudly. "Everyone in this house is Jewish, 'cept you and Stiglitz," he stated. "That was Wicki, he's Austrian, and Stiglitz, he's German – but the rest of us are American."

"And – and German soldiers are targeting Jews? Should you not be fleeing from this place, then?" Hanna asked curiously. Smitty shook his head fiercely. "We're not just going to let a bunch of Krauts kill us and not fight back!" He exclaimed, pulling his hand from hers. He hadn't even noticed that he'd been holding her hand until he stopped.

Hanna's head was bowed. "You are very brave, then," she murmured. "All of you. If it was me – I think I would run and hide where nobody could find me until I was sure that nobody was trying." Smitty looked at the girl on the bed, her blonde hair covering her face and one arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

She was only a year younger than him, but he felt so much older. She'd been hidden on her farm whilst he'd been killing Nazis and hearing about the atrocities they'd committed against his people. She was understandably scared and he half wished she'd never knocked on their door, just so that she could be tucked safely in her little world back in the city.

Just then, Smitty heard Aldo calling him. "I gotta go," he said almost apologetically. Hanna just nodded, face still hidden under her hair. As he left, he could hear her murmuring, over and over again, "_Lieber Gott, bitte halten Sie Pieter von mir weg und halten ihn sicher und ganz. Amen."_

Aldo was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. "Get your girl, Utivich," he ordered. "We're going Nazi hunting – it's time to put the fear of God into those Jew-hating Krauts."


End file.
